


16 tons

by flowersaretarts



Category: Withnail & I (1986)
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward, London, M/M, Romance, Separation, farewell, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersaretarts/pseuds/flowersaretarts





	16 tons

“Is that your final decision?”

Easy for you to say. This is not the decision I’d wanted to make.

“There’s no other way. I must. It’s a chance that I might not have for another year. And you know I’d crack if I carry on like this.”

His maw produced a cloud of smoke.

“You wouldn’t crack, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen worse.”

I shook my head; arguing with him was a pointless and painful endeavour.  
My voice was failing me again. A mouse squeak would come out, so I preferred whispering.

“I’m gonna go packing.”

It seemed that until then he could not believe my words, but when I was on my feet ready to dash, he became rather vigilant.

“Already?”

I couldn’t answer. My throat too tight. I had to nod.

He was still sitting on the chair, looking up at me standing over him - quite a rare visual composition; it’s usually the other way around, me looking up at him [in all the senses possible].

“What if I want you to stay?”

What are you playing at…

He reached for the chest pocket of his coat (I was surprised to see that wasn’t a fake pocket after all).

Too small, too simple, a pathetic little piece of metal with several scratches on it. The cheapest ring he could have afforded.

He placed it on the table for me to contemplate and decide its - and his - fate.

My fingers were numb from the unmade choice.

This ring would weigh 16 tons, no doubt about that. It wouldn’t be otherwise. Unless my right hand would have let go of the ticket to Manchester it was clutching inside my pocket.

He knew I almost found my tears. The bastard watched me closely. Without a word, I grabbed the ring and turn away to walk towards the stairwell.

I sent it back a month later in an envelope, after failing to persuade him to join me in Manchester.

I heard he drank a case of advocaat that night (sounded unbelievable, for I had never seen him drinking it before or even mention without a snort). There were a few calls from Mike and David, and Denny - who had been his girlfriend for a month of two before and still couldn't get over him. Accusations, complaints, demands. However, they did not upset me, but made me feel my friend was in safe hands. I hoped that would keep him afloat for a bit.

 


End file.
